Una of the Glen
by sofiya
Summary: A story about Una over the time frame of Rilla of Ingleside. Not necessarily an Una and Walter story though, I think my romantic heart wants it to be.
1. Default Chapter

Una walked silently next to Shirley. She wasn't sure why she was going. It was most certainly not for the dancing. As a minister's daughter it would be unseemly for her to dance. Not that it mattered, for who would ask her to dance. Perhaps Jerry or Carl would take pity on her. After all they were her brothers, and it was their duty. And maybe she would get a dance with Jem or Walter. But they would only dance with her to please Faith. In fact, Una thought despondently, it was good her father was a minister. At least she had an in excuse for not dancing. At least she could pretend that the reason no one asked her to dance was because of her father, not because she was plain, boring, and unattractive.  
  
To watch Walter moon over Faith was more than she could bear. Una was sure that if she had a flair for the dramatic, she would sigh tragically. But she was neither tragic nor dramatic. She simply was. Faith had begged her to come, fearing she would not be able to go if Una did not. She could hardly say no, if she wished to avoid a row with Faith. Una hated the way her heart twisted when she saw Faith with the Blythe brothers. It was wrong to feel such jealousy for her sister. But she could not help herself. She was not the perfectly kind, obedient daughter everyone thought she was. She could not help but wish that she was the golden girl. That she was Faith. People forgave her everything. All Faith had to do was smile, twinkle and sparkle, and everyone loved her. How she longed to break free from her mould as the dutiful daughter, But as much as she desired it, she did not know where to begin. That, she thought, was rather ridiculous and terribly ironic.  
  
She wondered if Shirley felt as she did - overshadowed. He never seemed unhappy. Certainly he never complained, but then one could never accuse him of being loquacious. She wondered if that was because of his brothers. With the clever, charming, and handsome Jem and Walter as brothers she would not wonder if he felt inferior and unimportant. She knew the feeling all to well. But Shirley, he seemed to be at peace with himself. And if he could manage, could she not?  
  
"It really is a beautiful night," she reflected. The stars were out and she could see the Harbor lights beckoning her. The day's warmth had lingered into the night. It was like a blanket enveloping her, soothing, like a mother's touch. The crickets were out as well. She could hear their melodies. It was strange to think, that such ugly creatures could make such beautiful music. But then beauty is in the eye of the beholder. And perhaps, it was a lesson to look deeper. To judge not on the basis of appearance, but on one's soul. The fireflies were twinkling in the woods. She could catch glimpses of them as the flitted between the trees. It was most certainly a night for lovers she thought, as she watched Faith and Jem, Nan and Jerry, and Carl and Miranda. She wondered what Walter thought. Wondered of how he would speak of a night like tonight. No one, she thought, could speak as beautifully as he could. His words, she thought, sounded almost like songs. And silly as she thought herself in her love for Walter, she knew she was not alone. But what was he thinking with his head bent next to Di? Was he watching Faith out of the corner of his eye?  
  
Una glanced behind her and saw Rilla. She looked so young and fresh in her green gown with flowers in her hair. Una wondered if she had ever looked as carefree and alive as Rilla did. She was certain she had never felt so. Rilla, Una considered, for all people said, was not unintelligent. Though she was not clever in the way Di was, she understood people. Rilla could empathize. Una was sure Rilla knew of her feelings for Walter. Rilla had almost told her as much. She disapproved of Walter's infatuation with Faith. And was most emphatic on the point that it was infatuation and not love. But the blessing of the sister meant little without the love of the brother.  
  
Rilla though caught up in the excitement of her first dance, was not oblivious to those around her. She wondered at Carl and Miranda. Surely Carl could not care for such a whey-faced girl. Rilla checked herself; it would not do for her to think so about others. Still she had plans to be the belle of the ball, and was glad to see Miranda Pryor would provide no competition. Faith, Rilla thought dispassionately, was pretty. And she had heard many say that Faith was the most beautiful girl in the Glen. But she would prove them wrong tonight. Had not Walter called her the most beautiful vision he had seen? Rilla disliked Faith. Disliked her strongly. She hated the way she was able to monopolize everyone's attention and make her look like a child. She did not enjoy being overshadowed. Worse still was that Walter thought he was in love with Fait, who was to blind to see how wonderful Walter truly was. Perhaps, Rilla thought, if Faith spent less time trying to outshine everyone, she would not be so very blind. But really it was ridiculous for Walter to even think of Faith; Jem and Faith had eyes only for each other. And Faith was not the type of woman Walter needed. It was clear to her as well as Miss. Oliver. No there was no love lost between her and Faith, even though she would probably marry Jem. She only wondered what Walter would do, what he would think, when they officially announced their engagement. Men she thought were far too stupid. It seemed that only Shirley saw Una's true value. She wished she could make Walter see it too. For it was plain as day that Una loved him more than anything! 


	2. chapter 2

The lighthouse was beckoning them from across the way. They could not help but be drawn to it. Inside it was gat, full of youth, life, and laughter. Una was sure she couldn't imagine a more perfect place for a dance. The waves lapping against the rocks surrounding the light house had a beauty of their own. And the music, who would have suspected that such beautiful melodies could be coaxed out of such battered old instruments. Though she could not dance, she felt her spirit soar listening to the music. It was not her first dance, but somehow it felt as though it was.  
  
Faith and Jem did not even come inside, preferring the privacy afforded them by sitting of the rocks and watching the waves. As soon as they had entered, Rilla had been whisked away for a dance by an over the Harbor boy. Minutes later, someone had already cut in. Una looked at Rilla admiringly, she had surpassed even Faith today. Perhaps it was her naivety or her delight in the little things, but Rilla was certainly incomparable. She watched her dance with Ken Ford. He was indeed handsome. And although, Rilla appeared to be oblivious of it, many of the other girls were casting biting glances her way, full of jealousy and spite.  
  
From her corner, Una could see everything. She saw her brother lurking around Miranda. She did not know how else to characterize it. For she knew, he did not overly care for her. And poor Joe, he was quite besotted. If it wasn't common knowledge, it was widely apparent during their walk over. She rather wished Carl did not feel the need to prove that he could get the girl. She hated to think that her brother could be so cold and calculating. But then he was not so very old. And hadn't Jem been quite the dare-devil in his days.  
  
Una saw Walter dancing with a girl she had never seen before. She was very stylish. Her clothes were most certainly not from the Glen, nor could Una remember seeing her in church. She was a new girl, a city girl. She was undoubtedly wealthy and witty and clever -- his perfect compliment. But then what did she expect, Una asked herself. With Ken captivated by Rilla, and Jem off of the market so to speak, Walter was the only other truly handsome boy present. It was only natural girls would want to dance with him. She knew all to well how mesmerizing his eyes could be. How poetic his words could be. Had she honestly expected him to resign himself to a quiet evening standing in the corner -- with her? She railed at herself for even entertaining the possibility. He loved beauty, and the girl he was dancing with was truly beautiful.  
  
Shirley noticed Una's troubled expression, and saw she was looking at Walter. She was a good sort, he considered. He enjoyed her company far more than his sisters. She did not pester him with questions or force him to listen to the details of her latest shopping expedition. He wondered if she did ever go shopping. Somehow he could not imagine it. Though she did look remarkably fine in her dress tonight. A midnight blue, matching her big bright, if somewhat wistful eyes. She did not have the sunny prettiness of Faith, the dusky beauty of his sister, or the more obvious beauty of the girl Walter was dancing with, but she had something. She had an earnest beauty; there was no other word for it. You could see her heart in her eyes, on her face.  
  
So she had gone and fallen in love with Walter. He could have told her that was a mistake. Walter was too much in love with the idea of love, to fall in love with someone himself. Or even if he did fall in love, he would be too blind to recognize it. Blinded by his passion for truth and beauty. As much as he loved his brother, and he certainly did. He thought Walter was far too prone to flights of fancy. Oh, he did have a way with words, but it did not pay to live in a perfect world. The world is not perfect, Shirley thought cynically, and the sooner one realizes that, the better off they will be.  
  
Una accepted the punch offered her. He bent his head down to her, "Irene Howard. Her name is Irene Howard. She is from the Glen. But finds being considered a country girl beneath her. Apparently, she has a some relatives in Montreal and has decided to cast herself as a city girl." Una looked up at Shirley startled. He watched color suffuse her face, and saw the confusion in her eyes. He silently raged at himself, he should have let her be. After all, didn't she let him be. "I am rather surprised to see Walter with her. She does not seem at all his type." An undecipherable noise escaped Una's lips. "Her beauty is too showy, too gaudy. Can you see her sitting in Rainbow Valley watching the stars with us? I certainly cannot." Una felt as though she had to say something. "Oh, but she is beautiful. And I have heard people speak of her. She is quite accomplished. Can sing and play to perfection." Una still looked too downcast for Shirley's liking.  
  
"Perhaps, he is just blinded by her appearance. But what is it that they say, 'beauty is only skin deep'. I am sure in her case it is quite true." Shirley looked down at her smirking, "I too had the unique pleasure of dancing with her." Una thought, the way he said pleasure makes it seem as though it were anything but. "She can speak of nothing but herself and her home in the city. And the way she bats her eyelashes, makes one wonder how she can see at all." Shirley proceeded to imitate Irene, and Una could not help but laugh. Her laughter was a beautiful thing, but rarely heard, a light twinkling laugh, that lingered in the air even after it was gone. As she was laughing, Walter looked over at her and caught her eyes with his. She felt as if time had stopped; she couldn't breathe. He had seen her, really seen her, as though he never had before.  
  
There were murmurs from the corner of the room. Una craned her head to see, but she was not tall enough. Shirley left her side to see what it was, promising to return. Una felt herself wishing she could love Shirley rather than Walter. In some ways, they were far better suited. And he cared for her. She wondered if friendship were enough to build a marriage on. But then she was jumping ahead a little too fast. Shirley was not unattractive. It was possible he had someone, a sweetheart, back at Queens. He had never given any indication that he harbored any feelings towards her stronger than friendship. Walter's voice broke her out of her reverie. She did not know what they were speaking of, but his voice sounded peculiar, haunting. It was war. She heard the whispering around her, Canada was now at war too. 


	3. chapter 3

Una looked around in a daze. Things would never be the same. It had been a beautiful night, but to be marred by war. How life and death had a way of mixing was unbelievable to her. She felt Shirley's arm on her shoulder; it was comforting to have him near. She heard Walter, his voice sad and drawn. She heard him not hearing the words. She felt herself being guided outside. She could hear Faith's voice. Her sister was crying. Her sister never cried. She wondered what Jem was planning to do. She wondered what Walter was planning to do. He was not well enough yet, she thought. He could not fight. They could not let him fight.  
  
Una sat on the rocks, the night air, chilling her to the bone. But she did not feel the cold air nip at her skin. Instead she felt as though she were burning up. She felt agitated and scared. Scared for her brothers, her father, her family and friends. Scared for the beginning of this new chapter in her life -- this new unknown chapter in her life. Never had she thought she would see something like this. "Una", she had felt Walter's eyes on her before he spoke, "we have been looking for you all over. Faith and Jem have already left. Shirley and Jerry are trying to find Nan. She ran off." He sounded tired, tired and old. Una turned around to face him. Her eyes bright with unshed tears. "Let's go home." He held his hand out to her.  
  
Una took the offered hand. It was amazing to think that only a few hours ago the night had seemed so romantic, so full of possibilities. The moon had brightened up the night sky lending a soft glow to the evening. But now it seemed to be smiling maliciously down at her. She could see the face in the moon taunting her. She swore she could. There was after all a man on the moon, she thought, shivering.  
  
"Una, here take my jacket. You are shaking like a leaf." Walter laughed at himself for using such a clichéd phrase. And here he had always considered himself to be a poet. Una looked up at him steadily, "Oh, I am not so cold," her voice trailed off. Walter squeezed her hand. What a comforting gesture she thought. She wondered how many times he had made such a gesture to other girls - to Faith, to that Irene?  
  
"This talk of war, must be rather hard for you. It is abdominably hard for me as well. I cannot understand how war can ever be right. How can we ever justify the killing of others, other humans -- the suffering and the pain. Perhaps I really am a coward for not wanting to fight. But it is far to ugly, like a nightmare. I wish we could just wake up tomorrow, and find that there never was a Kaiser." Walter could feel Una's eyes burning into him as he spoke. He wondered if any other girl of his acquaintance had eyes like hers -- penetrating. "I had not meant to go on in such a manner," he said turning to Una, "Come let us talk of something else - fluff and fun. The night was beautiful, maybe we can make it so again." He took Una's tremulous smile as a sign of acquiescence.  
  
"You know it is a shame you do not dance. They were many who would have liked to take you for a twirl," Walter said good-naturedly. More likely Una thought piteously, you wanted to take Faith out for a twirl. Una's voice was tinged with a bitterness Walter had never heard before. "You are far too kind to me Walter. But do not worry over me. There is no need to pay me compliments meant for others." Walter looked up sharply; this was not the Una he knew. Granted he rarely saw her when she was truly happy or carefree, though she did often seem that way in Shirley's company. They were both so alike, Una and Shirley, quiet and unassuming. But he had never heard her sound so resigned and tragic and sad. And in the moonlight, with the news of war hanging over them, and her big blue eyes full of tears, she really did look tragic, he thought. The lines of a sonnet formed in his mind - for the first time in months he was inspired by someone other than Rosemund.  
  
He had to run to catch up with her. She heard him behind her, and when she turned he saw the tears. She wiped at her eyes furiously, angered at being caught in such an unguarded display of emotion. She could not believe she had let him see her this way. Or that she had spoken to him so rudely. She should have just accepted his compliment, idle though it was. "Shirley will not have to go yet. He is far too young, and it is not as though Susan would allow it, let alone mother." Una looked at him blankly, "Go where?" She paused. "Walter Blythe, what on earth are you talking about?"  
  
Walter was sure he had never been so confused in his life. Here he was trying to sympathize with Una Meredith, and she was not having it. Instead she was looking at him as though he had two heads. Una, sweet, simple, kind Una - she was far from simple. He would attest to that. "I meant Shirley won't go to war." Una's eyes got even bigger. "I know that!" she said confused. "But even then, what does it matter," she caught herself, "I mean of course it matters. But why would you bring up such a thing. I mean why Shirley why not Jem, or Jerry, or," she added much more softly, "you." Walter strained to catch the end of her sentence, the glimmer in her eye, the tremor in her voice. The moon must be playing tricks on all of them tonight. He could have sworn, no it couldn't be. Una couldn't care for him like that. Could she? 


	4. chapter 4

By the time Una got home, Faith was already asleep. The stars had lit up the night sky and dawn was approaching, lending their bedroom an ethereal glow. She could see the path the tears had left on Faith's face as she had fallen asleep. Una wished she had not dawdled so with Walter, Faith had needed her, and she wasn't there. As infuriating as Faith could be, Una knew that she never truly meant to be. Faith did love her, Una thought, picking at her dress - the dress Faith had made for her. Una turned and caught a glance of herself in the mirror. And in that split second she thought she saw something in her face she had never seen before. It wasn't the prettiness of Faith. It was something else, something haunting. She desperately wished she wasn't so insecure when it came to Faith. But then could anyone help but feel inferior with Faith as an older sister. She doubted it. "But," Una said resolutely, "I will do my best to stop being so jealous. If you can bring our boys back to us safely!"  
  
Walter came back to Ingleside and found Jem pacing around agitatedly. Obviously, things had not gone well with Faith. He was not sure what to tell him. Walter had managed to hide the fact that he had fancied Faith from Walter. She was certainly beautiful, but they did not connect in the way, he thought people in love could, or should, or even would. No, she was Jem's girl and he knew it. And it tore at him to see how upset his brother was. Especially when they feel on opposite sides of this conflict. Walter had no great love for the Kaiser, but then he did not want to fight. He did not want war. And though Jem did not want war for war's sake. He would fight; he would see it as his duty. There was nothing he could say to his brother and sound sincere.  
  
It was Jem who did the talking though. "Did you see Una home alright? I had hoped you would get her back sooner, I am sure Faith would have wanted her sister with her." Walter simply nodded his head. "Oh, where is Rilla. Did anyone find her? Her first dance and we managed to lose her so quickly." Walter said with a bit of humor. Jem looked at him, his smile more of a grimance. According to Shirley, she went home with Mary Vance." Walter thought he was going to choke, "Dear Lord. I hope they don't kill each other. I can't think of anyone Rilla dislikes quite so much!"  
  
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It was well past breakfast before Rilla stumbled, though she stumbled quite gracefully, back to Ingleside. Small leaves clung to her hair and dress. Her wreath had long since fallen out, but a few stray flower petals still remained. The wind had played havoc with her hair and curls were frantically escaping from their confinement. Her dress looked damp and dirty. And her kid slippers, the shoes she had been so fond of, were destroyed. But what a death they had had. She had used to dance with her first sweetheart at her first dance. She had worn them when she first heard the news of war, a war that would become one of the worst ever seen (though can any war be better than the one previous?). Her eyes were large and drawn with purple smudges underneath. But somehow her sleepless night had only served to make her look more alluring. More young and beautiful, she looked like a dryad, Walter thought, tall, slim, stately, and melancholy. All the same, Jem thought, she looked quite piteous. (Could two brothers be more different?) He could barely choke back his laughter. But then he knew better than to tangle with a Rilla who was sleep deprived and ornery.  
  
Rilla for her part merely stood by the dining table taking them all in. Waiting for them to speak. And as the silence grew longer her heart grew harder. To be born into such a family. It was too wretched, she was sure! How could they leave her? She understood Faith and Nan must have taken the news of war hard. But what of her? She had three brothers, did she not? And Carl and Jerry were like brothers to her too. All those days they had spent together in Rainbow Valley. And Ken, she did not know what to think of him. She most certainly did not think of him as a brother. And if Walter and Ken were both to enlist . She couldn't bear to think of it. It just was not fair. How could such a glorious night have ended with such gloom and despair. She did not feel the exuberance Jem and Ken had when the news was announced. War was ugly, Walter was right. There could be no pride in war, only shame.  
  
It was her father who first 'ahem'-ed to get her attention. Well, she was prepared to listen and forgive, but first she would make them wait. But before her father could speak, Walter spoke. There was something about his voice that made Rilla's eyes immediately soften. "Rilla, I am so glad you made it back. We did not mean to forget you. It was only that Nan had run off and Faith was besides herself, and Una looked rather faint - I had to walk her home." Something sparked in Rilla's eyes, "You," she said the 'you' most pointedly, "walked Una home." She could feel Shirley's quizzical glance. But Walter for all his acuity noticed nothing. "Why of course," he replied as if it were the most natural thing for him to have done. "We thought Ken might have walked you home, but as it turned out, he was running after his own sister. Really far too many girls in our family circle, are they not." Rilla chose not to acknowledge that last comment.  
  
"You danced with Kenneth Ford then?" Anne asked her daughter. Rilla thought her mother the most beautiful woman in the world. Well aside from Leslie Ford, perhaps, and of course, Aunt Philippa. But Rilla thought, her mom looked like a mom. She hugged like a mom and scolded like a mom and spoke like a mom. She couldn't imagine not having her. When it came to Ken though, her thoughts could not be untangled. She had no idea what he thought of her. True he had called her "Rilla-my-Rilla", and it sounded like a song coming from him lips. But what did it really mean? "Oh, Ken was quite besotted by our Rilla," Walter broke in warmly. Rilla felt herself flush in pleasure and embarrassment. "Not that it is any surprise. I have yet to meet a girl who can hold a candle to our baby sister." Jem couldn't resist tossing in a few words of his own. "Although, I am not sure how Spider would fair in a beauty competition now." Smirking he turned to her, "Say Rilla, did anyone catch a glimpse of you on the walk home. I can assure you, you make quite a sight!" Rilla shrieked an inarticulate stream of works, causing her brothers to double over with laughter, as she stomped up the stairs. Between breaths Shirley said, "You really shouldn't rile her so," pausing, "but then," he considered thoughtfully," what is the point of being older brothers if we cannot?" 


	5. chapter 5

Una tried to block the light with her hands. But the sun was a force to be reckoned with. It refused to let her sleep. And try as she might to escape the light and catch a few more moments of sleep, she could not in good conscience do it. Faith was sitting in her bed, still dressed in her nightgown staring out the window moodily. "Una," she said, not even turning to look. Una walked around, to sit next to Faith, "How did you even know I was up??" she asked confused. "Oh," Faith said airily, "I have been sitting here since just after the sunrise saying your name. I figured you would wake up at some point." Una smiled at her sister. "So it was you then, calling me back from my dreams. And they were sweet dreams Faith. It was most unkind of you." Una laughed, but noticing Faith didn't join in, her eyes grew grave, "I am sorry I was not here when you came back last night. I should have been here with you, instead of walking back with Walter." Faith turned to Una, her eyes fierce, "You know. I wish I were a man, so that I could fight too!"  
  
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The call had come during the middle of dinner. She could remember everything. It was as though time stopped the minute the phone rang. She remembered their dinner of chicken and potatoes with beans, the creaminess of the milk, the smell of apple pie wafting out of the kitchen. Una thought nothing was more comforting and warming than the smell of cinnamon. They had all known the call was coming. But how could anyone prepare to send their child, their brother into war? Una wanted to be supportive. She understood why they wanted to fight. Really, she assured herself, I do. But it seems so futile. And how can so many men, boys really, for they knew little more of the world than she did, be ready to join a battle a world away. How could they be willing to leave their homes and family to fight a nameless and faceless evil? Perhaps, she considered, it simply depends on how you see the world. A pessimist would fight because they fear the war could spread here. But then perhaps they would believe that the Kaiser's success is inevitable and therefore would choose not to fight. Una sighed, frustrated with the flaws of her logic, just as Jerry hung up the phone.  
  
"That was Jem," Jerry spoke with a rare excitement in his voice, "He is going into town to enlist tomorrow. And I am going to go with him." They knew better than to stop him. Una saw Carl looking at his brother wide-eyed with envy. Ever since he had heard of the war he had been eager to join up. But he knew it was Jerry who must go first. And he was too young anyway. Still Carl thought it did not seem fair. Jerry was going to become a minister. Who ever heard of minister's being soldiers. No it made no sense at all. If anyone should go it should be him, or maybe even Faith, he did not doubt that she could be a menace. He could still remember her flying at him for the littlest things. No, in his humble opinion, Una and Jerry were simply too solemn for this war business. Their place was at home, and his place was at the front. He could only pray that the war lasted long enough for him to go get himself some Germans. But was it not wicked to pray for such things, he wondered. Anyhow, he had stolen more than a few apples from the Barnes' orchard over the past week. So he was far from being an angel, what danger was one more wicked thought?  
  
Una thought, her father looked dangerously pale, she could see his hands shaking visibly as he tried to cut his chicken. He had not looked so alone, forlorn since their mother had died. Reverend Meredith loved all his children equally. But Jerry was his firstborn son, and in his eyes he could always seen his well beloved long since dead wife. What is Jerry never came back? What if he came back with a cloudiness in those eyes. He couldn't bear to think of it. Rosemary noticed her husband's change in demeanor. But knew there was little she could do. For those that understood what war meant life would never be the same. There would be death and suffering she knew, but she didn't know. She couldn't recall the last time Canada was ever at war. "Come let us at least finish dinner. I made Bruce's favorite pie!" They all pasted their smiles on for Bruce. He did not quite understand what was happening yet, and he deserved to keep his innocence as long as possible. Una looked over at her sister. Faith's eyes were still pink from the tears as she absentmindedly poked at her pie. She had spent the afternoon with Jem. And despite her vows from the morning, she had confessed to Una that she was scared. Una's heart went out to her sister. She knew Faith had loved Jem since the day she first laid eyes on him. Of course she had played games with him, tried to make him jealous, fought with him. But Una remembered falling asleep to Faith's tears on those days she had fought with Jem. Una did not doubt for a minute that the pain Faith was feeling now was genuine. She prayed the war would end before it even started. That Jem was going was bad enough, but it was likely Jerry would leave with him. And what if Walter went as well? It wouldn't do for her to dwell on that. She did not have any right to cry over him. That Irene Howard had more of a right than her. But Una pushed thoughts of Walter away, and turned to place a reassuring arm around her sister. She was used to putting others before herself. Now was not the time to stop. 


	6. chapter 6

Rainbow Valley could still be counted on, even in trying times. The sun dappled grass, the autumn wind blowing soft and warm and sweet, like an angel's caress. Una sighed audibly, causing Faith to look up. They had both taken to bringing their letters to Rainbow Valley and reading under the shade of the giant oak trees. Jerry wrote to Una regularly, but Jem wrote to Faith with much more regularity. Faith had confessed to Una late one night after the boys had left, that she and Jem were engaged. There was no ring as of yet. But there was a promise. And one she said she intended to honor, "come what may". "Come what may," those had been Faith's words, and Una thought they were unusually eloquent for her headstrong sister.  
  
Jerry's letters had not been extraordinarily interesting, but then Jerry had always been serious and dependable. He filled his letters with stories of his fellow enlistees. A red headed, freckled youth named Ernest, who was so true to his name, that Jerry thought Ernest should be come a preacher and he should become a lawyer. Of a farm boy from out west who could eat him weight in mashed potatoes. He had repeated it twice you she could grasp the enormity of it all. Jerry had said the boy weighed 90Kg easily. Una had a hard time imagining 90Kg worth of mashed potatoes. But apparently it was possible. Wasn't there some saying about love and war. Jerry also wrote of old men, well past their own father's age, who arrived at training ready to fight. Only to be sent home due to lack of stamina and ability. She felt such pride in her country that even men far past their prime would fight for Canada. They would not leave the burden to the young along. Jerry also wrote of "crazy Americans," who were so determined to kill some Krauts that they had signed up with the Canadians. "Despite their confounded accents, and their monumental arrogance, and determination to take over the world," he claimed, they really weren't a "bad sort." Una had to laugh when she read that. Hearing that the Americans were going to fight in the war, gave her a burst of hope. The war could not last too long. With so many countries aligned against them, how could the Germans and their allies hope to succeed.  
  
Rilla used to come and sit in the Valley with them. Walter wrote to her, and Rilla would read parts of his letters aloud. Una had lived for those moments. But now with the baby - Jims, Rilla was a little loathe to come. She was worried the poor thing would catch his death of cold. Una smiled to herself, Rilla was certainly turning into one of those overbearing mothers. She seemed perpetually busy and frazzled. Una admired Rilla for taking on the responsibility of a baby. But it was strange to think of Rilla raising a child. Rilla was a girl meant for laughing and dancing - not a nanny. Faith had laughed hysterically when Rilla had first told them of her intentions. But seeing the determined and angry expression on Rilla's face, Faith and quieted down. However, she still took to joking about Rilla's predicament, as she called it, when there was no danger of being over heard.  
  
Walter had taken to writing to her on occasion. She had been quite shocked the first time she received his letter. Of course, they had been childhood friends. But there was something so very personal about receiving such a letter out of the blue. She still had it, tucked under the cover of her pillow. Her first letter from the boy, no the man she loved. Una only lived in concern that somehow Faith would find it, and plague her to death because of it. She never knew when Walter's letters would arrive. But they always seemed to arrive at such opportune times, at times when she felt she needed words of courage to urge her on. In his last letter he had written of "mighty oak trees, so proud and erect never bowing to the changing winds."  
  
Una really did not understand how Jem managed to write Faith such long letters. They were literally like books. When the envelope arrived, it was so covered with stamps that the address could barely be made out. She could have sworn that they letters were at least twenty pages long. And to top it off, they arrived like clockwork, once a week. He was a soldier, nearing the front, in training. For the life of her, she could not understand where he found to time to compose such epistles to his beloved. Una, never had a chance to actually see the letters up close. If she had, she would have realized that the letter itself was no more than a page. Despite his mother and brother who certainly had a way with words, Jem took after his father - strong and silent. On the remaining pages of the book, were written short notes, "Thinking of you", "Love you always", etc. One for everyday of the week.  
  
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	7. chapter 7

Hi. I hope you enjoy this installment. I am sorry my chapters are so short. It is just that it takes me so long to write. I am also trying to make Una, a little less timid.  
  
Una had just finished reading her last letter from Walter. She never brought Walter's letters with her when she and Faith went to Rainbow Valley. They were too private. They meant too much for her. She felt a strange twinge in her heart admitting that the letters of her neighbor, of her sister's fiancee's brother meant more to her than those of her own brother.  
  
This letter though had been so full of sadness and bitterness that it literally wafted off the pages. She could imagine him writing it, sense the pain in his eyes, in his strokes. She did not want him to enlist, any more than he did. But in his letters, his torment was evident. The war between his head and his heart, the war in his heart itself. She wished she could talk to Shirley. She was sure that he would know what to do. But Shirley was not one for writing letters. And there was no way for her to see him now. Despite Walter's protestations to the fact that he did not want to enlist. That he could not bear the ugliness, the brutality, and the cruelty of war, she knew it was only part of him that felt that way. She knew that if he did not enlist, he would eventually tear himself apart. If he did not enlist the guilt would eat him alive. His letters of late had been full of so much self-doubt and self-recriminations, that she could barely find the Walter she so knew and loved. But what could she tell him. He was so far away. She wondered if her words would carry any weight with him. She was just Una, his sister's chum, the sister of his ideal. But she needed to help him find himself. She needed to be understanding; she needed to be encouraging; she needed to be there for him.  
  
Dear Walter, How are you? Life here continues much as it always has. Except instead of the small town gossip that we used to hate, we speak of diplomacy, of politics, of armies a world away. I would give anything to go back to the days of Saturday afternoon tea's and sewing and gossip. Who would ever have thought that I, Una, would wish for a return to tea parties? Do you ever long for those days of yester year? Rilla and I went to town together a few days ago. And she found 'the most divine' hat (to quote her. Can't you imagine her?). I felt as though it was the first time I had seen her so. I don't know what the word is. I guess so much like the old Rilla. Of course, after what seemed like hours of staring, she purchased the hat. And somehow, I do not even know how. I fear, I must blame it on your sister's skills of flattery and persuasion. I too was convinced to purchase a hat. The milliner must have been especially pleased considering sales have been so slow lately. But do not think badly of me. I have hidden the hat in the back of my closet, away from Faith's prying eyes. I do not doubt that she would give me a lecture on economy. And I already feel immensely guilty for buying it when I should be supporting the war effort. So I am vowing not to wear this hat until the war is over. and not to buy another hat until it is over. This is my penance, as childish as it may seem. I have been loathe to bring it up. I do not want to add to that which is already weighing on your mind. In your last letter, you spoke of so many things. But even in your laughter, I could detect a sadness. You must know that war brings out the best along with the worst in people. Fear is nothing to be ashamed of, if you can rise above it, as I know you will. It was the person who sent you the feather that was the coward. A nameless, faceless individual without the courage to stand before you and before everyone. Without the courage to state his opinions openly and forcefully. I have faith in you. Rilla has faith in you. When the time comes, your fear will melt away, and we will still be here.  
  
Una was ready to crumple up the letter. Could she really send it to him? Were her feelings too transparent? Tucking the letter into her book, she decided to sleep on it. 


	8. chapter 8

Since my last chapter was so short I thought I would write this one. I hadn't planned on it, and I hope the spelling and such are not too atrocious. Who is the girl? I am not sure yet, she has a first name and a potential last name, I have some ideas. do you? This chapter was an attempt at comic relief. Hope someone laughs.  
  
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No one would ever have noticed them against the white of the snow, bundled up in their white jackets, scarves, and hats. That was the way they wanted it. It was the way it had to be, for now at least. But though they could not be recognized they could be seen, it was so cold, that their every breathe was visible like steam in the ice cold air.  
  
Shirley muttered under his breathe, "the poor blighter," not exactly sure in particular who exactly he was referring too. But his exclamation was sufficiently loud enough to startle the blonde girl leaning against him, sketching. "Oh, Shirley, did you have to move? You nearly beheaded the swan I was drawing." Shirley smirked at the girl, "Swan. The pond is nearly frozen over. You can't be talking about that poor brown duck swimming around in circles trying to stay warm." The girl moved to hit him, but was caught in the embrace of his arms.  
  
"I just received a letter from Walter. It appears that he has finally decided to enlist, although I think he has yet to tell my parents. It will be hard for mum to bear it. She always did dote on Walter. But the strangest thing about it all, is that he seems to have decided to enlist after receiving a letter from Una of all people." Shirley again muttered something unintelligable. The girl next to him sighed loudly, bringing his attention back to her, with a look of contrition in his eyes. "I would have sworn that if he did decide to fight it would be to win over Faith - not Una."  
  
"And now he says," he paused unsure of why he felt such rage against his own brother, "he says he has 'finally seen Una'. Her letter 'lit up her soul like a star does a wintry night'. But the end," he turns to look at his companion, "the end is the best part. He says he really believes, I, Una and I 'would be swell together'."  
  
"Swell? I did not realize that was a word approved by Keating or Wordsworth or Burns or, well any poet for that matter!" the girl's laughter ringing out into the otherwise silent air. "I know! Who would have believed big brother Walter even knew of the existence of such a singularly un-poetic word," Shirley joked.  
  
"But it does rhyme with dwell, and don't poets write of lands where faeries dwell?" Not to be outdone, Shirley began, "And it rhymes with smell, like the smell of your hair is sweet as May's first flowers." They looked at each other and began laughing. But the blonde girl could not help herself from asking, "Why is it that he seems to think there is something between you and Una?"  
  
"Una and I are chums. We understand each other. It is strange to think that we are unrelated and yet so very similar. And Walter and I, we are so very different."  
  
"Oh, I don't know that it is so very strange," she taunted him, "after all you both do have a way with words." Shirley smiled and pulled her closer to him. As he did, she felt her heart skip a beat. He really was very handsome. He did not have Walter's movie star good looks or Jem's collegiate appeal. But he was hers with his warm chocolate brown eyes and a smile meant for her alone. A smile, that if were used more often, she was sure would entrance over half her female class. She could feel his lips move against her hair, as he spoke more seriously, "She is like a sister to me. And it is that fool brother of mine that she is in love with. Except he is too blind to notice anyone or anything, always making eyes at Faith, all the while knowing she is Jem's girl." Shirley paused after his uncharacteristically long statement.  
  
"You really do love her, don't you?" she whispered. "Yes, and I know you will too. If only there were a way to introduce you." 


	9. chapter 9

Sorry for the hiatus. Please note that the first para should really go with the last chapter....  
  
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"Yes, if only there were a way to escape my dear Aunt long enough to see anyone. It is amazing I ever see you, as it is." Shirley sighed, "Things will change. They have to. We just need to hold on a little longer, until I finish up my degree. Then nothing can stop us."  
  
Una sat under the weeping willow in Rainbow Valley. She sometimes thought she was like a weeping willow personified – simply bending in the wind. Smoothing the fabric of her dressed pooled on the grass she decided, "At some point, I need to make life happen for me. I can't keep blowing in the wind. After all, the willow can be strong too. Though it may bend, it is hard to break."  
  
She couldn't take being cooped up in the house all day. Faith and her bitterness over the war. Carl and his rebelliousness was becoming too much to handle as well. Finding peace and quiet was no small task these days. There was talk of war everywhere. And where they wasn't the unspoken words hung so heavy in the air they could choke you.  
  
Her only breath of fresh air had come when Shirley had called in the morning. Strangely, he had asked her to come down to Kingsport. There was no way that she could with Rosemary sick and Faith busy with her own war efforts. She wondered what was bothering Shirley, it wasn't like him to call out of the blue. "He can't be thinking of enlisting too! How much are we to bear. To watch all the friends of our youth take up arms for against a country we don't even know why we hate." She would write to him and find out what exactly he needed.  
  
Una picked up Walter's letter again and began reading.  
  
Una dear,  
  
There are times when I there is such clarity in your voice and thoughts that it takes my breath away. It is as though you know what I am thinking and feeling, even though you are not near me. How is it possible for you to read me so well, for you to truly and actually see me?  
  
I write having come to a decision, in large part based on your last letter. I have decided to enlist, and join my compatriots Jem, Jerry, and all of the Ingleside boys. And I tell you this in the strictest of confidence, though I am sure you already know, I am afraid to go. Una, I am so afraid of never coming back. Never being able to see the shades of Rainbow Valley, Rilla's laughter, or mother's slow soft smile. What scares me even more is the thought of coming back the shell of a man. A man who after suffering the brutality of war, can never again smile or see the beauty that is life. Please forgive me for placing such burdens on your mind. But knowing that you know makes the burden on my heart ever so much lighter.  
  
And Una, please take the hat out of your closet and wear it out. Nothing would make me happier than knowing that my girls were still out there laughing, smiling, and looking like dolls. And take care that Rilla does not spoil baby Jims overmuch.  
  
Affectionately, Walter  
  
Una folded the letter back up and sighed. Walter was such an old, old soul. For being a man who saw so much beauty, he also saw far more darkness than she would have thought. 


End file.
